I woke up while it was still dark, my body fresh, not a single twinge of pain, as if a bat had never shattered my ribs. I slipped out again in surgical scrubs, came back through the main entrance pretending I'd just gone to grab food, and slid into bed before anyone noticed.
Now it's morning. White light streams through the window, and I'm sitting up in bed with the hospital breakfast tray in front of me. The wall-mounted TV is on, volume low.
The news anchor, face grave, speaks in a somber tone:
"…a tragedy at Tokyo's central police station. Two detainees, Sakurada Takeshi (49) and Sakurasawa Ren (32), charged with heinous crimes against minors, were found dead in their cell early this morning. Initial investigations point to a violent settling of scores between the two. The bodies showed multiple fractures, mutilations, and sharp-force injuries. Authorities believe the men somehow managed to smuggle prohibited weapons into the cell. Police have opened an internal investigation to determine how this security breach was possible…"
I smile with my mouth full of buttered bread. The guard kept his word. Not only did he take the bribe, he erased all the recordings and sold the official story without hesitation. Perfect.
I finish breakfast in four bites (hospital food is tasteless and never filling), wipe my mouth with the napkin, and go to the bathroom to wash my face, take a proper shower, and brush my teeth. When I come out, I flop back onto the bed, close my eyes, and wait.
Less than ten minutes later the door bursts open.
"Reiji-senpai!"
Reika comes in first: school uniform flawless, high ponytail perfect, but faint dark circles under her eyes (she clearly didn't sleep much either). Beside her is Hoshino, dressed casually: huge gray hoodie with cat ears on the hood, black pleated skirt, white tights, and sneakers. She told me yesterday she's not going back to school; she's switching to online classes at another institution. Too many bad memories.
I lift my head and give them a real, wide smile (one of the rare ones I almost never show).
Both of them smile back instantly.
Hoshino literally runs, throws herself onto the bed, lies down on my right side, and hugs me tight, burying her face in my neck.
"You're okay! You have no idea how much I prayed last night!"
I gently stroke her hair, chuckling softly.
"Easy."
The nurse who came in with them clears her throat, but after seeing the scene she just sighs and says "five minutes, okay?" before closing the door.
Reika sets her backpack on the chair, opens it, and pulls out a bento wrapped in a pink cloth covered in kittens.
"Eat," she orders, voice firm but cheeks flushed. "Before the doctors come. Today's special: salmon teriyaki, tamagoyaki with a touch of truffle, rice with salmon furikake, and wakame salad."
My eyes light up like she just handed me gold.
I open the bento. The smell hits me and I almost moan.
I grab the chopsticks and start eating like there's no tomorrow.
Hoshino lifts her head, curious.
"Can I…?"
I give her a piece of salmon.
She tries it; her eyes go wide and she lets out a happy little moan.
"It's amazing, Reika-san!"
Reika blushes, but smiles proudly.
"Yesterday I went with Mizuki to her house," she begins, sitting on the edge of the bed. "We talked all night. Her parents are… they're really good people, even though they were devastated. But they love her so much. I ended up sleeping over because it got late. She's… she's a really sweet girl. And so brave."
Hoshino blushes and hides her face in my shoulder.
Reika's voice softens:
"She's never opened up to anyone like that before. She told me everything… about the cats, the vet clinic, the… other stuff. And I… I told her my things. That my parents are almost never home. That sometimes I feel lonely even when the house is full of people. That I cook because it's the only thing that makes me feel useful."
Hoshino looks up, eyes shining.
"And I told her… that now I have a place to be. With the cats… and with you…"
The two of them look at each other.
And smile.
...
Reika gives us one last smile (small, but genuine) and adjusts her backpack on her shoulder. There's something in her eyes I can't quite read: a mix of happiness at seeing us together and a shadow of sadness she's trying to hide. She says a barely audible "see you later" and leaves the room, closing the door gently behind her. The click of the latch sounds far too final.
The moment Reika disappears, Hoshino curls even closer against me. Her head returns to my chest, her arm tightens around my waist, as if she's terrified I might stand up and walk away. I can feel her steady breathing against my gown, the warmth of her small body seeping through the fabric. I close my eyes and let myself enjoy the moment: the quiet of the room, the steady beep of the monitor, the soft vanilla scent of her shampoo. For the first time in forever, I feel like I don't have to fight anything.
And just when I'm about to drift off from pure contentment, she whispers:
"Reiji-senpai… are you… in love with Reika-san?"
My eyes snap open.
I look down at her.
Her face is half-hidden against my chest, but I can see her lower lip trembling slightly. Her fingers dig a little harder into my gown.
"What?" I ask, voice rougher than I expected.
Hoshino slowly lifts her gaze. Her cheeks are burning red, her honey-colored eyes shining with a mix of fear and determination I've never seen in her before.
"Last night… I talked with Reika-san. All night. And… she confessed something to me. She said… she has feelings for you. That ever since the day with the bento… she can't stop thinking about you. That she gets nervous when you're around. That… she really, really likes you."
I freeze.
The goddess in my head explodes with excitement:
"YEEESSSSS! TRIANGLE CONFIRMED! DRAMA! TEARS! KISSES! THIS IS BETTER THAN ANY NOVEL I'VE EVER WRITTEN! I'M BUILDING YOU A HAREM, I SWEAR!"
"Shut up," I order mentally, automatically.
Hoshino keeps talking, voice shaking more with every word:
"And I… I confessed something to her too. I told her… that I'm in love with you. Ever since the day with the kittens. Ever since you defended me. Ever since you let me stay at your place. Ever since you held me when I needed it most… I told her… that I don't know what to do with everything I feel."
My mouth goes dry.
Suddenly Hoshino sits up, swings a leg over me, and straddles my hips, knees on either side. Her hands tremble against my chest.
I'm completely stunned.
Her eyes are brimming with held-back tears, cheeks on fire, hair falling across her face.
"We both love you!" she blurts out, voice breaking. "Reika and me! And I don't know what to do! I don't want to lose her as a friend! But I don't want to lose you either! I don't know what to do, Reiji-senpai…!"
She leans forward.
Her face is inches from mine.
I can feel her warm, sweet, nervous breath.
She's shaking all over.
And I'm speechless.
Breathless.
I have no idea what to say.
I just look at her.
And she looks at me.
Eyes full of fear, hope, love.
And for one second, the world stops turning.
I'm paralyzed.
My body won't move. My mind is a whirlwind of old images: Aiko moaning beneath someone else, Mizuki laughing while showing me videos, Yumi with her legs spread in a stranger's car… All those betrayals flood back like acid, burning me from the inside. I'm terrified. A raw, animal fear of ever feeling that emptiness, that humiliation, that pain that almost killed me once.
But then I look at Hoshino.
Her honey-colored eyes brimming with tears, her lips trembling, her breath coming in short gasps… And the faces of my exes vanish. As if they never existed.
My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it. My cheeks burn. My hand (without me telling it to) slowly rises and settles on her hip.
She lets out a small, startled moan when she feels my palm.
Hoshino presses her forehead against mine. She's shaking all over.
"I'm… I'm dirty…" she whispers, voice breaking. "I'm not a virgin… because of them… Maybe… maybe you won't want my body… But… I want my first time… my real first time… to be with the person I love… with someone who truly loves me…"
Tears roll slowly down her cheeks, warm and silent.
She freezes, breathing hard, waiting for my answer.
I smile. A sweet, gentle smile I've never given anyone before.
And I bring my lips to hers.
The first touch is shy. Just a brush. Her lips tremble against mine.
Then she closes her eyes. And deepens the kiss.
Her mouth opens; her tongue seeks mine with desperation, with hunger, with years of repressed pain. I welcome her. Our tongues meet (slow at first, then faster, needier).
My hands slide up her sides, slipping under the oversized hoodie. Her skin is hot, soft, trembling beneath my fingers. I trace her stomach slowly, feeling every ragged breath, every tiny shiver.
We pull apart only a few centimeters, both panting.
"I love you, Mizuki," I whisper, looking straight into her eyes. "I love you exactly as you are. And I… I'm going to give you your first time. The real one. The one you deserve."
She lets out a small, broken, happy moan.
My hands move higher, brushing the edge of her bra, feeling the frantic beat of her heart beneath her ribs.
She presses herself closer, hips shifting almost imperceptibly against mine (seeking, needing).
And I kiss her again.
Deeper.
Slower.
More ours.
My hands slide up her waist, slipping under the oversized hoodie, finding the warm, silky skin of her back, then higher, until they reach her bra. With a slow, almost reverent motion, my fingers slip beneath the fabric and cup her breasts. They're small, perfect, full, nipples already hard against my palms. I squeeze them gently, feeling them mold to my hands, feeling her breath hitch and turn into a long, trembling moan that melts into my mouth.
Hoshino rocks her hips uncontrollably, grinding against me, seeking more contact, more friction. I feel myself growing harder, hotter, straining against the thin hospital pants. She notices immediately. She breaks the kiss just enough to look at me (lips swollen, eyes clouded with desire) and her hand slides down my chest, my stomach, until it reaches the edge of my gown.
With trembling but determined fingers she lifts the fabric, exposing my bare torso. Her eyes drink me in, as if she wants to memorize every line. Then her hand moves lower. She tugs my boxers down, freeing me.
I spring out, thick, rigid, the tip already slick with anticipation. It brushes against the fabric of her skirt, hot and pulsing.
Hoshino covers her mouth to stifle a moan, eyes wide, cheeks burning crimson.
"Rei… Reiji… it's… it's huge…" she whispers, voice shaking with desire and nerves.
Her soft, delicate hands wrap around me. Her fingers can barely close around my girth. She starts moving them up and down (slowly, exploring every vein, every inch) with a mix of shyness and hunger that drives me insane. My hips jerk on their own, chasing her touch. A low groan escapes my throat.
With one hand she lifts her skirt, revealing white panties completely soaked, the fabric clinging to her sex. With trembling fingers she pulls the cloth aside, exposing her pink, glistening, throbbing entrance.
Then, never breaking eye contact, she rises slightly on her knees…
and lowers herself slowly.
The tip of me brushes her entrance (hot, wet, slippery).
She moans.
I moan.
And then she sinks down.
Slowly, inch by inch, her body swallows me.
She's so tight (so impossibly tight) I'm afraid I'll split her in two. But she's so wet, so burning hot, that every centimeter is exquisite torture.
Hoshino bites her lower lip, eyes brimming with tears of pleasure and pain.
"It's… too big… Ah…! Reiji… You're… you're stretching me so much…"
Her walls grip me, suck me in, wrap around me like hot, wet velvet.
When I'm finally buried to the hilt, she stills for a moment, breathing hard, trembling all over.
Then she starts to move.
Slow at first (up and down, small circles with her hips), her sex squeezing me with every motion.
Her moans are music.
My hands return to her breasts, squeezing harder, pinching her nipples, rolling them between my fingers.
She cries out softly, arches her back, moves faster.
The bed creaks beneath us.
The hospital, the entire world, disappears.
There is only us.
Only this heat, this pleasure, this love we're building inch by inch, moan by moan.
Hoshino begins to move with more confidence, her hips rising and falling in a slow but relentless rhythm, each downward thrust driving me deep inside her, brushing that spot that makes her whole body shudder. Her walls grip me with a force that almost hurts (hot, wet, pulsing), as if she were made to take me. Her hands clutch my shoulders, nails digging into my skin, leaving little red crescents that make me growl with pleasure. Her breasts bounce under the hoodie with every motion, hard nipples rubbing against the fabric, and I squeeze them harder, twisting them between my fingers until she lets out a muffled scream, biting her lip to stay quiet.
"Reiji… ah…! It's… too much…! You're… you're filling me so much…! I feel like I'm going to break…!"
Her moans grow louder, more desperate, more obscene. Her pussy makes wet, lewd sounds every time she rises and falls; the filthy noise of our bodies colliding fills the room. Her juices soak me, running down my thighs, onto the sheets, leaving a hot puddle beneath us. Now her hips circle, grinding against me, seeking deeper, more friction, more of me.
I lose control.
My hands drop to her hips, fingers sinking into her soft flesh, and I start thrusting upward to meet her on every descent. The impact is brutal. Each time I bury myself to the hilt she cries out, head thrown back, hair plastered to her sweat-slick face.
"Yes! Yes! Like that! Harder, Reiji… please…!"
I lift her slightly, flip her without pulling out, and now she's beneath me, me on top. Her legs spread wider, wrapping around my waist, heels digging into my back to pull me deeper. My hips slam against hers in a savage, fast, deep rhythm. Her breasts bounce with every thrust, nipples red and swollen from my fingers.
She rakes my back, nails carving burning trails.
"I love you…! I love you…! Give me more…! I want all of you…!"
And I give it to her.
I fuck her harder, faster, feeling her tighten around me, milking me, sucking me in. Her moans turn to screams, eyes rolling back, mouth open in a silent cry.
And just when I'm about to explode, she screams my name.
"Reiji…! I'm… I'm coming…!"
Her body locks up, walls clamping down impossibly tight, and I feel her come around me (flooding me with her release), her whole body shaking beneath mine.
I can't hold back.
With a deep growl I drive into her one last time and come hard, filling her, claiming her, every pulse hers.
And we stay like that.
Trembling.
Sweaty.
Gasping.
Entwined.
My lips travel down from her mouth to her neck, slowly, savoring every inch of trembling skin beneath my touch. I leave a wet trail of soft kisses, tiny nips that make her shiver and arch against me. Her breathing is ragged, hot against my ear. I feel her racing pulse beneath my tongue as I pass her collarbone, as I reach the hollow between her breasts. With both hands I push the huge hoodie up, bunching it until her flat, soft stomach is bare, rising and falling fast. I kiss her there too, slow and reverent, feeling every muscle tense under my lips, every goosebump that rises on her skin.
She's still trembling (not from cold, but from a mixture of pleasure and vulnerability that has her on the edge).
I take her wrists gently, as if they were made of glass. I slide the sleeve of the hoodie down and reveal the fresh white bandages they put on her yesterday. Carefully, I ease the bandages lower.
The scars appear. They aren't neat lines. They're memories of dark nights.
And I kiss them.
One by one.
With infinite tenderness.
First the right wrist, then the left. My lips brush every mark, every wound, every story written on her skin.
Hoshino turns her face away, ashamed, eyes full of tears.
"No… don't look at them…" she whispers, voice breaking. "They're… they're ugly…"
I let out a low, loving laugh.
"They're yours," I answer against her skin. "And that makes them perfect."
She sobs, but this time it's from relief.
And then, without warning, my hips move again.
Slow, deep, still inside her, still hard, still starving for her.
She moans, a long, trembling sound.
"Reiji…! Wait…! You just… you just came inside me…! I'm… I'm still so sensitive…! Please, slower…!"
I lean in, kiss her forehead, her closed eyelids, the tip of her nose.
"Shh… easy… I'll go slow… I just want to feel you again…"
And I start moving.
Slow. So slow.
Each thrust is deep but gentle, like a caress inside her. I feel her walls still pulsing from the last orgasm, still squeezing me, still full of me.
She clings to my back, nails digging in again, moans spilling out without control.
"Ah…! Reiji…! It's… it's too much…! I feel… I feel everything…!"
Her hips begin to follow me, seeking me, even though she says she can't take any more.
And I keep going.
I kiss her neck, her jaw, her parted lips.
I make love to her again and again, calmly, lovingly, reverently.
Every movement is a promise.
Every moan she gives me is an answer.
And we lose ourselves once more.
In each other.
In this moment.
In this love neither of us expected.
But both of us deserve.
My hips start moving again, this time with more purpose, more hunger. The slow, reverent rhythm turns into something deeper, rawer. I slide in and out of her with torturous slowness at first, letting her feel every inch of my length dragging through her soaked, swollen walls (still hypersensitive from the last orgasm). The wet, filthy sound of our mixed release echoes every time I pull almost all the way out and sink back in to the hilt, hitting that spot inside her that makes her arch her back and let out a broken moan she tries to muffle by biting her fist.
Hoshino trembles beneath me, legs spread as wide as they'll go, thighs shaking around my hips. Her nails rake my back, digging in hard, leaving burning red trails that feel incredible. Her breasts heave with every ragged breath, nipples hard as pebbles, and I lower my mouth to catch one between my teeth, sucking hard, grazing it gently until she screams my name and her pussy clamps down around me like a hot, wet fist.
"Reiji…! I can't… I can't take it…! You're… you're so deep…! You're going to break me…!"
But her hips don't lie. They rise to meet every thrust, begging for more (harder, deeper). Her panties are still pushed aside, soaked, clinging to her thigh, and every time I pull back I can see myself glistening with her juices and my earlier release, sliding in and out of her pink, swollen entrance that's open only for me.
I grab her wrists again, pinning them above her head against the pillow with one hand. She moans louder, completely at my mercy. With my free hand I slide down to her swollen clit and start rubbing fast circles while I fuck her hard, each thrust jolting her body against the bed.
"No…! Ah…! Not there…! Reiji…! I'm going to come again…! I can't… I can't…!"
And she does.
With a muffled scream against my shoulder, her pussy spasms violently around me, squeezing so hard it almost pushes me out. Her release gushes over me, soaking me, soaking the sheets, her whole body shaking uncontrollably beneath mine.
I don't stop.
I keep fucking her through it (faster, harder), feeling her walls milk me, suck me in.
And when I feel myself right on the edge again, I release her wrists, grab her hips, lift her, and impale her completely.
"Mizuki…! I'm coming…! Inside again…!"
And I explode.
Filling her once more, to the brim, my hot cum mixing with what's already there, overflowing, leaking out around me with every tiny movement.
She moans my name over and over, like a prayer, tears sliding down her cheeks (this time from pure pleasure).
And we stay like that.
Me still buried deep inside her.
Her trembling beneath me.
Both of us sweaty, breathless, glued together.
Hoshino is completely undone beneath me. Her chest rises and falls in quick, ragged gasps, skin glistening with sweat, brown hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks. Her legs still tremble around my hips, spread wide, unable to close after so much pleasure. Her eyes are half-lidded, glassy, brimming with tears of exhaustion and bliss. Her lips tremble with every breath, parted, swollen from my kisses.
I'm still inside her. Still hard, still throbbing, buried to the hilt in her wet heat. I could keep going. I could move again, make her scream again, fill her a third time until she couldn't take any more.
But I look at her.
I really look at her.
And I see how tired she is. How vulnerable. How fragile she looks after everything she's been through.
And I decide it's enough.
I kiss her neck again, slow and soft, letting my warm breath brush her sensitive skin. She lets out a quiet, exhausted but happy moan.
"You were incredible," I whisper against her ear.
Slowly, carefully, I begin to pull out.
Inch by inch, feeling her walls cling to me one last time, as if they don't want to let go. When I'm fully out, a thick stream of white spills from her, sliding down her thighs, staining the sheets, glistening in the dim light. She moans again (weaker this time) at the sudden emptiness and the warmth trickling out.
Snap.
A soft, warm white cloth appears in my right hand, fresh from the dryer.
I smile to myself. Thank you, goddess.
I lean down carefully and run the cloth over her sex with the utmost gentleness, wiping away every drop, every trace of me. She shudders at every touch (her body far too sensitive) and lets out tiny, exhausted whimpers.
"Shh… easy… I've got you," I whisper. "It's okay now."
I keep cleaning her calmly (down her thighs, around her entrance) until she's perfect again, clean, only the natural glow of her skin remaining.
I toss the cloth aside (it vanishes before it hits the floor) and move up to her face.
She looks at me with tired, shining eyes full of something I've never had aimed at me before.
Love.
Pure, absolute, unfiltered.
"Thank you…" she whispers, voice hoarse. "For… for giving me this…"
I smile. A soft, genuine smile.
"Thank you," I answer. "And look forward to your next visit… because I'm already dying for you to come back."
I kiss her lips.
Soft. Slow. Full of everything I can't put into words.
She kisses me back instantly (weak but eager), her hands sliding up to my nape to keep me close just a second longer.
And we stay like that way.
Embraced.
Sweaty.
Happy.
...
...
I'm standing beside the bed, staring at the wreckage with a mix of embarrassment and satisfaction I don't quite know how to process. The sheets are twisted, stained, soaked in places; there are wet marks where her thighs were, pearly streaks that glint in the midday light, even a few drops on the floor. The pillow is crooked. The whole room smells of sex, sweat, vanilla, and something deeper, more intimate, that I don't want to name.
I sigh, run a hand through my still-messy hair, and feel my cheeks burning again. Hoshino left exactly three minutes ago, walking almost bow-legged, hoodie on backwards, face so red it looked ready to burst. She gave me one last shy kiss on the corner of my mouth before leaving and whispered a "I'll be back tomorrow" that's still echoing in my chest.
And then…
Snap.
The bed is suddenly spotless. Crisp white sheets perfectly tucked, pillow in place, not a single stain, not a trace of scent. My gown is clean again. The floor gleams.
I smirk.
"Happy now, you perverted goddess? Or do you need me to send you a private video for your collection?"
The goddess's voice appears instantly (husky, satisfied, dripping with that sultry tone she uses when she's truly pleased):
"Happy? Darling, I'm drenched! That was PURE ART! The reincarnated cuckold fucking the shy-girl-who's-a-virgin-in-spirit in a hospital bed! The moans! The tears! The "I love you" between thrusts! I had three divine orgasms just listening! I've got enough material for a month of wet dreams!"
I laugh quietly, sit on the now-pristine bed, and flop back.
"You're a disaster."
"A glorious disaster! Look at how you had her (trembling, spread open, begging)! And you, all gentleman and beast at once! The way you filled her… ugh…! I've recorded every second in my eternal memory! And that little face she made when you told her you love her… I came again!"
"Shut up already," I say, but my voice is soft, almost affectionate, smile still on my lips. "Someone might've heard."
"Let them hear! Let the whole hospital know the ice-cold yankee fucked the shy girl until she lost her voice! Let them find out! Let them line up for your blessing!"
I cover my face with my forearm, laughing silently.
"You're impossible."
"And you're mine, my living masterpiece. Now rest, my beautiful animal… because tomorrow the student-council president is coming back with more bentos… and I want front-row seats to watch you handle TWO girls head-over-heels in love with you at the same time."
I close my eyes.
My heart is still pounding hard.
...
The door opens with a soft creak, and I, half-asleep, force my heavy eyes open. I have no idea how much time has passed (maybe half an hour, maybe three). The sun is lower now, and the light coming through the window has that orange glow of late afternoon. I rub my face, still tasting Hoshino on my lips and carrying the scent of her skin in my memory, when I look up and see who just walked in.
It's a woman in her mid-forties, tall, slender, with straight jet-black hair cut neatly at shoulder length. She's wearing a flawless dark-gray suit, pencil skirt, low but elegant heels, and an expensive-looking black leather handbag. Her features are sharp, almost severe, but her gray eyes (exactly the same gray as mine now) hold a tired, worried look that softens the hardness. On her lapel she wears a small silver dragon brooch. The same dragon I have tattooed on my neck.
A memory unlocks like a violent flash.
It's Reiji's mother. Ryūsei Sayuri. A woman who barely appeared in the original Reiji's memories because she was almost never home. Business trips, meetings, conferences. The father was the same. Reiji grew up practically alone, with money in the bank and an empty house.
She sees me and gives a short, almost military nod. I nod back, not fully sitting up.
Sayuri closes the door carefully and scans the room: the perfectly made bed (thank you, goddess), the half-open window, the absolute silence. Then her eyes settle on me again.
"Reiji…" she says, voice low, controlled. "The police called me two days ago. I thought you'd gotten into trouble again. Another fight. Another one of your messes. But when they explained… when they told me what you did… I took the first flight from Singapore."
I don't answer. I just lean back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. In the original Reiji's memories, conversations with his mother were always cold, distant, full of reproach. I'm not in the mood to relive that.
She keeps talking, not waiting for a reply.
"Your father didn't want to come. He said you were fine, that the doctors would handle it, that there was no need to interrupt his trip. But I… I needed to see you with my own eyes. After everything that happened… after what you did for that girl… I needed to know you were really okay."
Silence.
She sighs (a tired, almost resigned sound).
"You were always a difficult boy. Ever since you were little. Fights, bad grades, run-ins with the police… I thought you'd never change. That you'd end up ruined. But this… this is different."
She takes something out of her handbag: a thick white envelope and a package wrapped in brown paper.
She holds them out to me.
"Clean clothes," she says. "And some money. Not a fortune, but… use it wisely this time. Not on stupid things."
I open the envelope. Inside are several thick stacks of 10,000-yen bills. Far more than I expected.
I nod, without saying thank you.
She looks at me a moment longer, as if searching my face for something she can't find.
"The doctors say they're discharging you today. Your recovery has been… inexplicable. But you're okay. That's what matters."
Another silence.
Then she smiles (a small, almost sad smile).
"Take care of yourself, Reiji. And… thank you. For saving that girl. For being… better than I expected."
She turns, opens the door, and leaves without looking back.
The door closes with a soft click.
I stare at the envelope and the clothes.
I let out a long, deep sigh.
...
It's pitch-black night when I finally leave the hospital. The sky is an endless void, no moon, just a scattering of cold stars staring down from impossibly far away. Late-autumn air cuts like knives, but I feel alive. I'm wearing the clothes my mother brought: black hoodie, gray sweatpants, clean sneakers, and the thick wad of bills tucked safely in the inner pocket. Our conversation was short, almost military: few words, long silences, glances that said more than any speech. The doctor on duty gave me the final instructions (relative rest, physiotherapy twice a week, follow-up in a month), I signed the discharge papers, and I walked out without looking back.
I breathe in the icy night air.
I smile.
Today has been an excellent day. I survived. Hoshino is safe. Reika brought me food. And the goddess, for once, didn't drive me completely insane.
Then a thought hits me like a hammer.
Luna. The kittens. They've been alone since yesterday morning.
I know I left enough food for two days, fresh water, clean litter… but guilt still twists my stomach. They're not just cats. They're her family. And now, somehow, they're mine too.
I check the time: 22:47. Last train is long gone. Night buses are a fantasy at this hour. Only one option left: walk.
One hour home.
I start walking.
The streets are empty, just the echo of my footsteps and the wind whistling between buildings. Neon lights off, the occasional lost car, a distant siren. I still limp a little (the goddess healed almost everything, but left a slight reminder so it wouldn't look too supernatural), but the cold keeps me awake and the leftover adrenaline pushes me forward.
I reach the building just past 23:50, breathing hard, hands frozen in my pockets.
And then I realize.
I don't have keys.
Police kept everything: wallet, phone, keys. "Evidence," they said.
Great.
I go down the outside stairs to the ground floor, where the landlady lives: an old woman who always wears curlers and smells like miso-soup perfume.
I ring the bell three times.
Five full minutes of silence pass before the door opens ten centimeters.
"Who the hell is it at this hour?" a raspy voice asks.
"It's me, Reiji from 2-B. Lost my keys. Need the spare."
The door swings open.
The landlady (flowered robe, bunny slippers) squints at me up and down.
"Always trouble with you, boy… Wait here."
She disappears inside and comes back with a massive keyring. Hands me my spare key.
"And while we're at it," she adds, dead serious, "this month's rent. Late again.
I pull out the stack my mother gave me, count what's owed, and hand it over.
She raises an eyebrow (surprised) but says nothing. Just nods and shuts the door.
I take the stairs two at a time.
Open the apartment door.
Turn on the light.
Everything is exactly as I left it.
Living room spotless (goddess miracle), cat bed open on the floor, litter clean, food and water bowls almost empty.
Luna is curled on the sofa, sleeping peacefully.
But the four little demons…
The second they hear the door, they come charging like a stampeding furballs.
Mochi launches himself at my legs.
Matcha tries to climb my hoodie.
Sushi weaves between my ankles, yowling like a maniac.
And Miso… Miso stops in front of me, looks up with those big blue eyes, and lets out one single meow, as if to say, "Where the hell have you been?"
I crouch down, try to scoop them all up (four cats don't fit in two arms, but I try anyway), and collapse onto the floor, laughing.
Luna opens one eye, gives me a regal feline stare, stretches, hops off the sofa, and comes to rub against my arm.
And I, surrounded by cats, body still sore but heart completely full…
grin like an idiot.
I'm home.
...
...
I'm sitting on the big sofa in my parents' living room, knees tucked under me, a thin blanket over my shoulders. It's night; the floor lamp is on, casting that warm light that's always made me feel safe, and outside I can only hear the wind rattling the tree branches in the garden. My parents left a while ago for the police station; they said there were some final papers they had to sign in person and that they'd be back before midnight. I didn't want to go with them. I needed to be alone for a bit, to process everything that's happened in the last forty-eight hours.
And no matter how hard I try not to, my mind keeps going back to him.
To Reiji.
I can still feel his big hands cupping my breasts, squeezing them with that perfect mix of strength and tenderness. I can feel his mouth on my neck, on my scars, kissing every mark as if he could erase all the pain they carried. I can feel his weight on top of me, his hard, hot length opening me slowly, filling me until I thought I couldn't take any more, until every thrust tore a moan from my throat that I couldn't hold back. I can still feel him coming inside me twice, hot and thick, marking me from the inside like he wanted me to never forget that I'm his now. I can still feel that delicious soreness between my legs, the lingering sensitivity after hours of pleasure.
I blush to the tips of my ears and clutch the blanket to my chest.
Stop it, Mizuki! This isn't the time!
Tomorrow I'll go back to the hospital. Tomorrow I'll curl up against him again, breathe in his scent, feel his warmth, hear his deep voice whispering that everything's okay. Tomorrow I'll be able to kiss him again, slowly, without hurry, without fear.
But then I think about Reika.
And guilt crashes over me like a cold wave.
Reika loves him too. She confessed it last night, between tears and nervous laughter, while we shared her huge bed. She told me that ever since the day with the bento she can't stop thinking about him. That she gets nervous when he's around. That she feels stupid for feeling this way. That Haruto came back from the tournament and, when he found out everything, slapped her in the school hallway in front of half the class. That she doesn't know what to do with her feelings anymore.
And I… I don't know what to do either.
Because we both love him.
And neither of us wants to lose him.
And neither of us wants to hurt the other.
The thought makes me squeeze my eyes shut, as if that could erase it.
And then the front door bursts open.
I think it's my parents coming home early.
I stand up from the sofa, blanket still over my shoulders, and walk toward the entrance with a smile.
But it's not my parents.
It's Natsuki.
Natsuki-oneechan.
The one who's been like my big sister for as long as I can remember.
She's standing in the doorway, half-empty liquor bottle in her right hand, short blonde hair completely messed up, makeup streaked from crying, eyes red and swollen. She's wearing an open black coat over a short silver dress that glitters under the light, torn stockings, and her heels dangling from her hand, as if she ran here barefoot.
When she sees me she lets out a choked cry and lunges forward.
She hugs me so hard she almost lifts me off the floor, burying my face between her breasts, the smell of alcohol and expensive perfume filling my nose.
"Mizuki! My little Mizuki! I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry! Your parents called me and told me everything! Everything that happened to you! And I didn't notice! Please forgive me! Forgive me for being such a useless big sister!"
And she starts crying.
Really crying, body-wracking sobs.
I freeze for a second, then hug her back just as hard.
"Natsuki-nee… it's okay… I'm okay now… It's over…"
She doesn't let go.
Still crying, she guides me to the sofa, sits down, and pulls me with her until my head is resting in her lap, just like when we were little and I had nightmares.
Her fingers start comb through my hair, slow and gentle, the same tenderness she's always shown me.
"My baby…" she whispers between hiccups. "My little girl… Never again… I'll never let anything happen to you again… I promise…"
And I close my eyes.
And let her stroke my hair.
I'm still resting my head in her lap, feeling her long, manicured fingers comb through my hair with the same gentleness she's always had with me, when Natsuki starts talking between hiccups and sighs.
"Your parents called me last night… I damn near had a heart attack, Mizuki. They told me everything, everything, EVERYTHING… that bastard Ren had you enslaved, that he was selling you, that pig Sakurada… God, I almost died right there! I was literally about to get married, you know? Dress, church, everything ready… and I told everyone to go to hell, that I was coming to Tokyo right now. I canceled the wedding, paid for a private taxi from Kyoto, twelve straight hours, bottle in hand because I couldn't stop crying and drinking. Twelve hours thinking my little sister was broken and I never noticed!"
I open my eyes wide, look up at her, face full of guilt.
"Natsuki-nee… I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to ruin your wedding…"
She looks at me like I just slapped her.
"Ruin my wedding? Mizuki, you're more important than any wedding, any idiot with a ring, anything in this world! You're my baby! My little girl! If something happens to you, I die too!"
And suddenly her voice turns pure venom.
"And that piece-of-shit Ren… that disgusting, twisted, sick bastard! I swear to God one of these days I'm going to the prison and ripping his balls off with my own hands! I'll shove that bat up his ass until it comes out his mouth! I'll make him swallow his own broken ribs!"
Her fingers tremble with rage, then soften again.
She gently takes my wrists, lifts them, and starts kissing them. One by one. Her lips brush every scar, every mark, with a tenderness that makes me cry again.
"My poor girls…" she whispers against my skin. "My poor babies… Never again, you hear me? Never again."
She smells like alcohol, as always. Expensive vodka and sweet perfume.
I turn over in her lap, press my cheek against her stomach, and curl up closer, like when I was little and had nightmares.
She lets out a soft laugh, voice still cracked from crying.
"What's wrong? Why are you suddenly so happy? You were crying a minute ago!"
I blush to my ears, hide my face against her shirt.
"I-it's nothing!"
"Oh ho ho! Look at that tomato face! Something's definitely up! Come on, spill! Who's the lucky guy who's got you this silly?"
"It's… it's a boy…" I finally whisper, barely audible.
Natsuki lets out a long, happy laugh.
"I knew it! My little girl's in love! And so fast! You're a hopeless romantic! Tell me everything! Is he hot? Tall? The kind who fucks you against the wall or the kind who makes love slow and sweet?"
"Natsuki-nee!" I yell, red as a traffic light. "Don't be crude!"
"Come on! You're a big girl now! And after everything you've been through, you deserve a good fuck to wash away the sadness! So tell me! What's the prince's name?"
"Reiji…" I whisper. "Reiji Ryūsei… From my old school…"
Her finger stops in my hair.
Three seconds of silence.
Then…
"Reiji? Reiji Ryūsei? The tall, dark-haired Reiji with gray eyes and a dragon tattoo of a dragon on his neck?"
I sit up a little, confused.
"Do… do you know him?"
She stays quiet another second.
Then lets out a nervous, strange laugh.
"No… no, of course not… It just… sounds like a really hot name, doesn't it? Reiji…! So sexy! Just the name already makes me imagine things!"
"Stop it!" I yell, covering my face.
"Come on, tell me where he lives and I'll pay him a little visit! To check if he's worthy of my little sister! I want to see if he's as good in bed as he seems! Maybe I'll even ask for a live demonstration!"
"Natsuki-nee! Stop it! I'm serious! Don't joke about that!"
She laughs, hugs me tighter, and keeps stroking my hair.
"Relax, dummy… I'm only kidding… But if he makes you happy… then I'm happy too."
Natsuki pulls her face away a little to squint around the living room, as if she's looking for something vitally important hidden among the furniture. Her fingers are still tangled in my hair, but now they move slower, with that nervous tic she always gets when she's drunk.
"Hey, Mizuki-chan…" she whispers in a slurred voice, dragging the words. "Did your parents leave any beer around here? Just one… just one little can… for the soul, you know? To calm the nerves…"
I sit bolt upright in her lap and stare at her with huge eyes.
"No! Don't even think about it, Natsuki-nee! You're already wasted! You smell like an entire liquor store! You're not drinking another drop!"
She makes a massive pout, lips swollen, eyes glassy with drunken pleading.
"But it's just one! Just one! Please, my pretty little girl! I'm so nervous! I need something to take the edge off! One tiny sip! Like when we were kids and you let me taste your grown-up juice at parties!"
"That was fruit punch with one drop of rum and I was ten! And you shouldn't have had any either! No, no, and no! No beer, no wine, nothing! You've already drunk enough for a whole regiment!"
She flops dramatically back onto the sofa, clutching her chest like she's having a heart attack.
"Oh, how cruel my little sister is! Denying me a tiny bit of comfort in my darkest hour! After everything I've been through for you! I canceled my wedding! I raced here from Kyoto! And now you won't even give me one little beer! What an unfair world!"
"It's not unfair, it's healthy! And responsible! Look at you! Red eyes, slurring, you almost fell down the stairs! One more drink and you'll pass out and I'll have to carry you to the bathroom to puke!"
She sits up suddenly, mischievous grin spreading.
"You'd carry me? How sweet! Just like when we were little and you carried me because Mom's heels hurt my feet! Come on, one beer and you can carry me all you want!"
"No! Not one! Not half! Not even a sip from the bottle you brought! Give it to me right now!"
I try to grab the liquor bottle she's still holding, but she hides it behind her back like a naughty child.
"Nooo! It's mine! It was expensive! Premium Russian vodka! Just one little sip and I promise I'll be good!"
"You've promised that three times since you got here and you're still the same! Give me the bottle, Natsuki-nee!"
"No! First give me a kiss and then we'll negotiate!"
"No! You're drunk! And I don't negotiate with alcoholic terrorists!"
She bursts out laughing, a long, musical laugh that fills the whole living room.
"Alcoholic terrorist! That's a good one! I'm putting that in my Instagram bio! Come on, one sip and I'll let you sleep in my lap all night like when you were little!"
"Nooo! And I'm not little anymore! Give me the bottle or I'll take it by force!"
"Try it, shorty!"
And that's how we keep going, fighting like we're ten and thirteen again, her hiding the bottle, me trying to reach it, both of us laughing and scolding each other at the same time, until I finally manage to snatch it from her and hide it on the very top shelf of the kitchen cabinet, where I know she won't reach without climbing on a chair (and in her current state, that would be a guaranteed accident).
She collapses back onto the sofa with a dramatic sigh.
"You're a bad sister…"
"And you're an irresponsible drunk."
"But you love me."
"Of course I love you, idiot."
And we stay like that, giggling softly, hugging, just like we've always done.